Beautiful, Broken, Breathless
by Returnedwriter
Summary: I for one actually like the Kieran, Mark, Cristina storyline and wanted to keep myself comforted so till Cassandra Clare graces us thirsty book sniffers with the queen of air and darkness, I made my own little interpretation. There will be hot hot scenes and emotions galore and I'll be as faithful to resource material as possible. Enjoy, if you can (but don't rely on my commitment)
1. Chapter 1

The Spanish girl

He knew he couldn't help it, but guilt wretched his stomach like a cool dagger. He wanted to leave, be anywhere but here, where his family needed him the most. It had been too much. Waking up to a harshly warm morning, watching similar cars pass on the freeway. The bustle of life in the family, once wild and familiar, was now quiet and cold. And for a second, he would wonder why.

"She's gone." A voice would whisper in the back of his head and the memories would flash like horrid photographs. Limp, lifeless Livvy, her blood soaking the very floor they all stood on, life pouring out of her in its gallons...

It had only been 17 days since they got back. Tiberius barely left his room, stacks of nibbled lunches outside his shut door. It was as if Arthur's very spirit had possessed him. But Arthur never screamed so loud at the nightmares.

Ty had broken that day. Who ever Ty was with Livvy, the Ty they knew, had died with her.

His luminous grey eyes, once twinkling with curiosity and innocence, were like hard steel now. Distant, expressionless, almost ablaze with silver fire in his heightened emotions. Mark had seen what happened to members of the Wild Hunt when they drank from Gwyn's cup. Souls broken open for all to see, a rebirth of something more wild and dangerous. Yet he feared what he saw in Ty now. He had seen his soul break that day, and feared what danger had been unleashed...

"Are you waiting for them?"

He knew her voice. Gentle but assured. As if she knew the answers befopre you did.

Cristina.

She must have heard him come out here, considering the bare quiet of the nights now. He had wanted to go to Emma, lie down next to her like they used to do, even if it was treachery. But he knew she would be with someone more deserving of her comfort.

He felt for her, watching Julian, fretting over him in her silent parabati way. But her looks of absolute heartache and love was what broke him. He could practically feel her urge to destroy Julian's pain like a foul beast, anything to heal his heart. It seemed the mortal sword had pierced all if them that day.

"Is it selfish?" I ask, gazing at the sky. I can feel her presence, even in the cool night air, even as she's far from my side, I feel her there. His guilt strengthens.

"Selfish?" She asks inquisive, walking up to him.

"I know they need me here. I know I have to be here for them. But I feel so overpowered. I couldn't care for my family, I couldn't even take the burden off my baby brother. He had to split his heart, discard his childhood to be there for them, to be to them what he never had. And I couldn't help him." She stood beside him, he could feel her worry.

"Now one of our own is dead. As if that pain isn't enough, I have to watch Julian suffer. I have to watch him swallow it all down, to be strong for them. He shouldn't have to do that, he wouldn't have had to do that if I was here for him.I should be the one looking after him. Telling him not to worry, letting him cry on my shoulder. But Im here, wishing like a coward. Wishing Gwyn would bring me a steed and I could howl my sorrows into the clouds, drowned in the night air. Anything but this pain, anything but what this is."

It rushed out of him like a held breath. Cristina sat down beside him. Her bronze, soft fingers brushing his left eye. A tear that doesn't fall.

"You know, I'm usually better in these situations. I've always been the friend to comfort, a shoulder to cry on. But this... this has really shocked me, this whole event. All this chaos... Strength is so hard to find in the face is sorrow. It drains you everyday, just trying to breath, to survive let alone live."

She goes silent, twirling a loose strand of pink wool from her sweater. He could tell she came straight out of bed. Her eyes were slightly darkened from exhaustion and she gazed sombrely at the street below. Her gold pendant hung below her collarbone, glinting in the moonlight. Her long legs, bare and smooth, her pyjama shorts rolled up slightly...

He stopped himself. The guilt nearly suffocates him


	2. Chapter 2

Encounter

Cristina longed for better times. Ever since the death of Livvy, the warmth and reassurance had sapped from the Institute. A strange, raw emptiness seemed to fill the place, a hollowness gaped in all of them. It showed too. She had only had to catch a glimpse in the mirror the other day to see the darkening circles under her eyes, the slight sharpness of usually rounded cheeks. She had spent days comforting and worrying about Emma, who was comforting and worrying about Julian, who was doing his best to comfort and worrying to death about the Blackthorn kids. Especially Ty, Ty made everyone worry. Something in him had seemed to snap, like a light had died in him. Whenever he entered the room, breaths were held, eyes focused. But Ty carried himself recklessly, with a new type of abandon and loss in him. A quiet, cold anger and pain that chilled everyone to the bone. A constant reminder that things could never be the way they were. That something was always going to be missing.

Cristina eyes felt heavy under the luminous moonlight. But she fought it, she wanted to see them. The Wild Hunt. She wondered if he would be among them, somehow by chance. A radical hope.

Kieran.

She knew he was as safe as he could be, at the Scholomance. Diego had done his best to update her, under his cautious guise. But she couldn't help it. She missed his mocking smile, his fierce presence. As if life was a big game, a dark joke that only he could laugh at. She almost wished she could go back in time, before the tragedy. When he loved Mark obliviously, and they all lived in that guise. It was a deceit, she knew. But she could now understand why people would rather live in a lie than suffer the truth. Something had unraveled between him and her, between them. She couldn't help but think back to it, especially in these harsh times, especially since the dream...

"There." Mark whispered.

In the distance, a white dot, brighter than any of the other stars, started to glow and expand. The dot grew to a morphing circle, expanding and building like a tumbling snow ball, it dropped down through the thick, dusk clouds and seemingly disappeared. Suddenly, they bursted from behind the clouds, the vicious horn tearing across the night sky. Cristina felt excitement and fear flash up her spine, goosebumps protruding across her bare skin as she watched them, glorious and ethereal in their glinting armour, riding their graceful steeds.

She looked over to Mark sensing his immediate reaction.

His fists clenched tightly, his jaw set. He looked suddenly defined and sharp, as the moonlight outlined him, turning him into a wild silhouette. She could see it, the savagery build in his eyes. The gold shone like lava, the blue illuminated like the stars themselves. He seemed more primal with his pointed ears and sharp cheekbones. He could very well jump from this very building and land gracefully onto his steed, galloping away into the cold night.

"Cristina," he groaned. He turned to her slowly, like a predator. Desperation in his eyes.

Hearing her name so roughly made her breath hitch.

"I... I need to go, I need to go with them." His fist clenched so hard, blood dropped from his palm.

"Mark, please calm down." The look in his eyes, the sudden hunger, the need, caught her like a trap.

"You don't understand," he whispered, grabbing her shoulders, turning her to him fully.

"If I go, I could find her. I could kill Annabelle. I could stop his pain. Julian's pain," he hissed the words like a swear.

"They need you here. Mark, you can't leave now." She tried to persuade calmly. How could just leave his family like this?

He had turned from her, he was watching them, the Wild Hunt as they galloped away. She caught the smell of blood and metal, the scream and howls that tore from their throats.

Mark's hand dropped from her, almost entranced, his gaze determined. He walked rapidly to the roof edge, eyes set. He wanted to end this himself, he wanted to escape.

Cristina's chased after him in alarm, grabbing his arm as he stood idle at the roof's edge.

She could feel the thick muscle under his t shirt, the warmth of skin against the chill of night air. Shock ran through her arm, all through her body.

Mark must have felt it too. He gasped silently, jolting ever so slightly at her contact.

He breathed heavily, face turned towards the sky, woken suddenly.

He watched his former warriors charging further and further away. He closed his eyes, lingering on the rippling horn vibrating through his bones. He imagined the howling winds, drowning him in the chill of war. He could feel freedom, the beauty of the stars, the terror of death, the elation of the Hunt, losing himself completely in abandon. But most agonisingly, he wanted Kieran. He imagined his dark curls, like silk, slipping through his fingers. He wanted to feel the web of scars on his back, his encasing embrace...

He turned to Cristina. Her slender fingers wrapped around his arm, her eyes glistening with worry. Worry. They all worried. It seemed to overtake the sorrow. The anxiety that sank their souls like lead anchors.

But her worry flared his guilt. This girl, this beautiful girl, worried for him. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve her, she didn't deserve all the pain he caused her, neither did his family.

"You should have let me go," he spoke emotionless.

"Your family needs you here, Mark. We need you. We have to stay together, now more than ever," she breathed desperately.

"Together? Together? Cristina, MY FAMILY IS FALLING APART! MY BABY SISTER IS DEAD, HER TWIN WALKS AROUND AIMLESS AND LOST! JULIAN BARELY SLEEPS AND HE'S SKELETAL! AND THE ONE GIRL WHO COULD GIVE HIM ANY SHRED OF JOY IS FORBIDDEN FROM LOVING HIM." His cheeks warmed to scarlet and his heart raced and pounded like the steeds of the hunt.

"Radical fanatics might take our institute away from us and I spend night and day worrying to death about Kieran forgiving me, about you...about you." He stopped abruptly. He had let it all out, his breath had nearly left him.

"I hate seeing you with that look in your eyes. I catch you nearly every time, I fear that look Cristina. Kieran gave it to me when I was attacked in the Hunt, the children have it to me when I first came to them, now you give it to me, when I'm in pain, wishing I was some where else."

He moved closer to her, almost staggering, lifting a steady hand to her face.

Cristina breathed slowly. She was used to it, the outbursts, the mood swings, Ty had his few recently. But Mark's was different. She could feel his hopelessness, his loss. As if her heart had to take on all his pain too.

She shivered at the gentle touch. So light and soft it felt almost painful.

She looked up at him. She took in the gentle glowing his gold eye, the lazy sparkle in his blue eye. His features softened, the savagery shrouded in raw loss.

He closed his eyes, leaned into her and pressed his lips against hers. She couldn't help but shut hers too, melting into their kiss.

It was slow and gradual, she could feel all the detail. The brush of his eyelash, the stroke of his fingers on her cheek as his other hand slid tenderly to her waist. She opened up willingly, and he was gentle but she could feel the desperation in his taunt muscles, the way he pulled her closer. She could feel the warmth of his skin under his clothes, feel heat swell in her chest. It took her back. This feeling, to one more intense. The dream.

The memories flashed in the swirling darkness. Mark dragging kisses down her body, her collarbone, her rib cage, her stomach, lower, lower. The slow, agonising trickle of crystal blue water, the silver crescent moon. Kieran. Kieran whispering against her lips, laughing lightly, his curls turning a deep violet as his mouth brushed her ear. Kissing his neck as his fingers began to slide down beyond the thin material of her...

She broke away, breathless. An intimate heat spread bellow her stomach, the feeling of a slight slickness between her legs turned her cheeks bright red in embarrassment. She couldn't look at Mark, not without absolutely losing it.

"Cristina...I'm..."

"Kieran." She replied. That one word, the one person that broke the whole situation.

Mark looked away in guilt, his lips reddened from their kiss.

He ran a hand through his pale blond hair, thoughtfully regarding the ground.

A minute passed, then two. The heat of the moment was taken by the passing car horns and whistling night air.

The black night wasn't as dark, the sky was a fraction lighter. Cristina longed with her heart to turn back time, to keep it night. Life started at sunrise, she wanted this moment, this peace.

"Take me to him." Mark said finally. He turned back to her, determination smacked on his face.

"Mark, we need to be here. We can't just leave, Kieran is safe..."

she started."

"No Cristina. He's not, not unless I know he is. I need him to forgive me, I need to make this right."

She was silent, the moon regarding them.

" I can't sleep Cristina, I can't rest knowing how we separated. If I can reach Kieran, I can fix this problem, I can fix something."

His gaze locked on her, like she held the knife to give him sweet death. He would go anyway, with or without her. She knew that. She wanted to see him too, a certain emptiness had settled in her when he left, a slight ache she couldn't explain. She put it down to Livvy's death but even then...

"Please," he pleaded, standing close to her. She could reach out and touch him again. She wouldn't, not tonight.

"Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

Crackle

Tavvy had finally fallen asleep from his nightly mares. He had clung to Julian's arm like a vice (strong for his age) begging for Livvy to come back, tears streaming down his pink face as he shivered from another of his night tremors. Julian, exhausted and heavy, had held him, stroking his soft curls and wondering to God how he was going to get through this.

'But why would she hurt Livvy,' he had asked, the innocent sorrow punching Julian in the gut. 'Livvy had never hurt no one, she didn't deserve to die,' he had whimpered. Julian swallowed back hard tears, looking to the thick darkness of night outside the window.

'I don't know why, Tavvy,' he had lied. He knew exactly why. He was the one who was too far to protect Livvy, he was the one who had stood and watched her died, had been naive enough to bring that maniac straight to her. He had failed his duties. He felt a heavy defeat rest it's unbearable weight on his shoulders. All this to protect his family and she had failed. All the scheming and lies, the sacrifices and hardships, all those fell flat before him. He had poured his sweat, blood and tears into this family, and just like that, Death had stolen her, laughing in the face of his efforts.

He was glad that Tavvy was at least getting some sleep. Being the youngest, he needed the rest. He gladly gave up the past nights making sure he was okay; it wasn't like _he_ could sleep anyway.

A quiet tap came at the door. Julian already knew who it was; he could feel her breathing through the wood.

Emma stood in the corridor, illuminated by the glowing lights. _Had her hair always been so golden?_ He thought.

'I heard Tavvy crying, I wanted to check everything was okay.' _I want to know if you're okay too._

Julian silently closed the door to Tavvy's room, 'He finally fell asleep,' he sighed. He tried to keep the resonating exhaustion out of his voice, standing up a little straighter. _I'm fine_

Her heart ached. Julian had grown even slimmer, his shirt a little too lose on his shoulders. Stubble shadowed on his face, making him look more like a middle aged man than a young boy. His hair hung in curls past his ears. She wanted to do nothing more than kiss his pain away, hug him so hard that she enveloped him in her, surrounded and safe in her body. But she couldn't. Not after that night.

 _Livvy's presence almost overpowered her. She took in the neat bed with it's lilac bed sheets, the pearl hairbrush that she had gifted her on her 14th, her emerald journal lying on strewn paper. Emma choked back a sob as she picked up the hairbrush. She had picked it up at the Black Market one day from a steely eyed witch. Livvy had stared at it in awe. It's smooth chiseled hilt tinted with gold, dotted with opal jewels. 'This looks like it cost a fortune,' she had frowned._

 _'Not really,' Emma had reassured. 'Just a werewolf's eye.'_

 _Livvy had looked at at her quizzically and Julian gave her a disapproving look._

 _'What? I outbid her fair and square, and when she came confronting me about it afterwards, I had to do what I had to do.' Julian sighed at her reckless behavior but Livvy giggled._

 _'Thank you Ems, I'll cherish it forever.' (Totally worth the brutal bite mark)._

 _She had. She'd used it a lot too, with her wisps of her sticking to the brush's teeth. A last living trace of her. Emma placed the brush down gently, feeling lightheaded with sorrow. The funeral was over, she felt empty in her mourning clothes. The flames had engulfed Livvy's body the moment they touched the pyre. Ty had watched with worryingly focused eyes, as if the flames were calling to him. He looked nearly about to run into the flames,climb onto the pyre, vanquish the fire and shake his sister back to life. Luckily, Julian held his shoulder, half in support, half in restraint. Tavvy, too young to watch, had been with Mark and Dru had stood between Emma and Julian, his arm wrapped around her waist, also supporting her weight. She leaned on Julian as if her legs would give out at any second, dried tear streaks refreshed on her face. Emma had placed her arm on the girl's shoulder, trying to support her as well as intimately touch Julian arm. Kit had stood his distance until Emma had motioned him to join them. He stepped up beside Ty, their fingers only barely touching though Ty didn't seem to notice. Helen collpased in her wife's arms, Aline stroking her hair tenderly whispering in hushed tones with a grim look. That was how they watched as Livvy, one of their own, succumbed to the flames._

 _She walked over to the bed, picking up the purple t shirt. She sat down with it, on the uncomfortably old bed. It felt wrong. Livvy should have slept here last night, the bed should have been warm._

 _'I didn't think anyone would be able to come in here,' Julian spoke, standing in the door way. He stepped cautiously into the room, regarding the contents of this sacred space._

 _He walked over to the messy desk, picking up the emerald journal. He ran he thumb along it's paper edges as if it was an ancient artifact. He had taken of his mourning jacket, wearing only the loose white shirt and trousers . She had a sudden urge to trace the dark lines underneath his shirt._

 _'Ems, do you think this is my fault?' he asked quietly, calmly. Too calm. Calm Julian scared her._

 _'Of course not! If anyone should be blamed, it should be me. I was the one she threw her weapon to, and even then I couldn't protect her or at least kill that raging bitch.'_

 _Julian mouth pulled into a humorless half smile._

 _'Jules, please don't feel that way,' she pleaded._

 _Julian let out a ragged sigh, ignoring her plea. 'You know, at some point, when I truly started feeling the weight of running the Institute and caring for the kids, I wanted to quit. I wanted to tell Diana everything, have her call the Clave to make some type of arrangement. I though I would be able to bargain having each of us pair off at least. Tavvy and Dru, Ty and Livvy... you and me. It was too much, I was 12. I thought too myself, I can't do this, I don't have to commit to this type of reliability, we'll be fine, we'll be fine. But then Diana had told me that it was unlikely we would all be paired up so perfectly, and we would all be separated. Even then, I thought that I could still go and find you all. When I came of age, I would work hard to work my way to running the Institute and we could all be together, just give it a couple of years.'_

 _'But the next day, Ty was having bad dreams and it was becoming normal for me to calm him down, but Livvy got there before I did. That time, it seemed particularly awful for him and I thought that maybe his twin would do a better jobs than me. I overheard them and it was then I knew, I couldn't give them up. Ty was questioning, like he usually does but he was extremely panicky. He had compared me to Dad, saying I wasn't him and that I'd killed him. He couldn't still understand why. How could I have done so to our father? How could they possibly trust me to care for them the way Dad ad Mom did?_

 _'He's our brother,' Livvy had said._

 _'He loves us, Ty, you and me, Dru and Tavvy. He's been petitioning non-stop to get Mark and Helen back, even if the Clave has the same ability to see reason as Homer had the ability to see at all. You know he wouldn't have killed Dad for no reason. You saw him that day, he wasn't himself. If anything, that should prove to you how much he loves us, doing that to our own father. Don't you think it's hard on him too?' She had gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and in his rare indulgences of physical attention, Ty had given in, placing his head on her shoulder.._

 _'We'll be fine. We have Julian. We'll be fine.'_

 _'She was only 11 Emma,' Julian spoke hoarsely. She trusted me so much, I know I couldn't let her down. Let any of them down. I knew then on that I had these kids counting on me, and I couldn't dare not do my best to protect them.'_

 _'But now look at how I've failed' he didn't need to speak. She could read it in his face. He was still running his fingers along the pages, slicing a deep cut that bloomed blood._

 _Emma stood up attentively. She grabbed his calloused hand, watching blood drip onto the floor._

 _'Julian stop,' she warned wearily. She touched the bleeding finger before gently kissing his hand._

 _He watched her with eyes wide and tender, like the sea, blue green and lapping on itself. She could see herself reflected in his widening pupils, seeing her blond curls cascaded around her face. His other hand slowly reached for her cheek, delicately stroking a light thumb along her lips. She couldn't help it. She shuddered at his touch, feeling that hungry fire start low in her stomach. It grew as he moved to run his fingers through her hair, down her spine, holding her hips, not once breaking eye contact. She closed her eyes, lost in his blue green eyes, his sensitive touch._

 _He took that as a sign to kiss her. She felt his lips, soft and slow at first. But he grew passionate, pushing against her. Hard. She felt him, he wasn't gentle anymore. He wanted this. He wanted her._

 _A fire spread along his nerves as her fingers tentatively stroked down his spine, igniting his skin. His lips broke from her mouth, though he plunged to her neck, kissing and biting ferociously. Pleasure pulsated deep in her so feverishly she thought she would die. He lifted her in his arms, adrenaline burning away his exhaustion. His senses heightened. Emma, sea- salt and smoke from the fire, apple shampoo, it intoxicated him. Her gold her felt like silk on his skin, and she looked gorgeous. Her huge, warm brown eyes. Her pink lips. He was going mad._

 _They clashed and bit and kissed in their shared grief. Emma's arms wrapped so tightly around him, it was almost suffocating. But he didn't care The energy seemed to flow in and out of the me both, like surging tides engulfing them. It sparked and swirled, ignited their need for each other, to swallow the other's pain, to take the other in anyway, to love and be loved back. They spoke without words as if their minds were split open for all to see._

 _I need you_

 _I'm here for you_

 _Where thou diest I will die_

 _You are everything. You are the only thing_

 _Whither thou goest, I'll go_

 _You are all of me_

 _I am yours_

 _Take me_

 _I love you_

 _Then it happened. An electrum shock that struck them both and threw them apart. Had they been hovering? It was like lightening that struck down their spines._

 _They stood opposite ends of the room, stunned, staring at each other silently. What the ...? Emma suddenly looked wide eyed at Julian's hand, inhaling sharply. Julian looked down. His eyes widened in awe._

 _Gold electricity crackled along his fingers, as if he held a tiny thunderstorm. It illuminated his face, spreading down to the deep cut. The illumination bled into the cut like angel's anchor, sealing the small wound seamlessly, as if it had never been there._

 _Emma walked over to him carefully, entranced by the humming bolts. As if on impulse, she touched Julian's hand, and no sooner had they made contact, the air exploded into dazzling fire._

She stared at Julian's new scar; a web a snaking thunderbolts all the way up his hand. It matched the one on her shoulder, like snaking vines. She felt a cool wash of fear from the memory. _The curse._

Julian must have felt her fear, because he reached out to touch her. A chaste, simple touch of reassurance, that he understood her fear, that he was there but Emma stepped back hesitantly.

Could a simple touch remain chaste between them?

'Don't.' She warned. It hurt her to step back from Julian. She couldn't stand the sight of the linger of his hand in the air, before it dropped, defeated.

'You're right.' He said guarded, his eyes staring unfocused at the ground. He looked like Ty, with his distant eyes and dark longish hair.

They could already feel it though, the hum of energy in the air. It pulled them close, like a magnet.

It was already happening.


	4. Chapter 4

Clary

'Simon, hurry!' Clary shouted as Simon slashed at the flesh demon. Her heart raced with panic as Jace hung limply from her side; she did her best to hold him up. He felt like dead weight, barely breathing but he felt so warm. They never should have come.

 _It was the smell that hit them first._

 _'What died in here?' Simon choked. It was a stench of burning plastic and dark magic; it settled in the atmosphere with a heavy humidity._

 _''I've smelled worse,' Jace said with a narrowed look._

 _They had portaled to a bleak looking forest that felt wrong. The trees had blackened leaves and twisted, protruding roots, like long, bony arms reaching up through coffins. It was late evening and the moon was their only light. The witch lights would not work and Clary's hands felt cold;_ _ **something**_ _was happening.'What could possibly be worse than this?' Isabelle asked, shoving dead twigs to the side with her high heel._

 _'Your casserole does come to mind,' he smirked wickedly. Isabelle then proceeded to flip him an obscene gesture that would have made Maryse red._

 _'What is this place ? It's making my spidey senses tingle', Simon shuddered._

 _'Please refrain from referring to your shadow hunter senses as 'spidey senses' at all times,' Jace warned humourlessly. Did something just dart in the corner of his eye?_

 _'Give me your stele,' he turned to Clary. His liquid gold eyes hardened and alert._

 _Clary reached for her leather backpack, the stele slipped into a secret, concealed pouch..._

 _CRACK_

 _Suddenly, Jace was knocked to the side with a powerful swoop and landed hard with a sickening crunch. Everything was quick._

 _Isabelle gasped but Clary barely had time react._

 _A horrid beast stood over them. It was an eyeless lizard thing with a human looking skull, it's body covered in stretched dewy white flesh. It stood like a pray mantis, with large protruding claws. Something straight out of a G_ uillermo del toro nightmare.

Clary reached for her seraph blade, about to react when...

 ** _No not now, any time but now . She knew it would happen._** _Her cold hands became numb, as if all the nerves had been chopped off. A thick gold burst in front of her eyes, as if someone was violently splattering a camera lens with acrylic. She couldn't see the demon any more, she glimpsed someone running to Jace, her parabatai ruin stinging._

 _This had happened before. But she could feel it; this was going to be much worse._

 _The gold light rose to fill her senses. She could feel it pour out of her ears, rush in her blood, as if she screamed gold. She could see, no feel the rune. It's shape, curves, lines. It grew warm in her skin. Hotter, hotter, hotter, searing in her brain. It was agony, ringing in her ears, suffocating her. She felt an uncomfortable weightlessness, as if she was free falling uncontrollably. The ruin screamed in her mind as if to say 'I AM HERE, USE ME FIND MY PURPOSE, ACKNOWLEDGE ME' It grew hotter and hotter, she could feel her skin burn like lava ran under her veins, she tasted the bitterness of charcoal in her mouth and the inhaled unbearable smoke; she couldn't breath..._

 _It stopped. As if someone had snapped their fingers to blind the sun._

 _She was on her knees, clutching so hard at dead twigs and leaves she saw drops of blood on her palm. She still felt a lingering warmth under her skin._

 _'Jace, Simon, Isabelle' she thought in a rush. As if he could hear her thoughts, Simon appeared beside her._

 _'By the Angel, Clary what was that?_

 _He asked worriedly. His arm was cut and blood dripped to his wrist but he didn't seem to notice._

 _He lifted her to her feet. When had he become so strong?_

 _'Are you okay? Where's Jace?' She managed to ask._

 _'That... thing hit him pretty bad,' he brought her to were he was lying. Isabelle sat beside him, a swollen bruise on her cheek. She looked too concerned to notice._

 _'Are you ok, my God Clary what was that?' She grabbed Clary in a tight embrace, her brow creased in deep worry. She looked like Maryse, albeit a slightly busted up Maryse._

 _'Yeah you looked like you were about to fight but then you started floating and... fricking glowing," Simon gestured._

 _Clary had been able to hide it before,she definitely didn't need the others to know. She cursed the damn place for turning her secret into an extravaganza._

 _Simon's stare was humourless. His usual optimistic brown eyes were now grave and hardened, like a real shadowhunter's; he had felt something. She cursed the damn place again._

 _'Jace...we need to get him home,' she distracted, pulling from Isabelle's touch._

 _She knelt down to Jace. He was breathing but ragedly, and he was so motionless. She swallowed down her panic._

 _'I don't now if the portal will work from within,' she admitted, subtly knitting her fingers with his limp ones. He responded, weakly curling his finders around hers. 'I can try and make one._

 _'But what about that thing?" Simon questioned. Without her, Simon and Isabelle had done pretty good. The thing was sprawled lifeless in a distant clearing. She could see sharp, brutal cuts in its body, oozing scarlet blood._

 _'Let the Clave handle it,' Isabelle rose. A violent gash was carved into her thigh._

 _'If there's one, there can be more. And we're way out of our territory._

 _I'm calling Magnus just in case Clary can't make the portal. This place freaks me out,' Isabelle said wearily, slightly limping away with her phone._

Simon walked over to Clary, sitting on a stump beside Jace. He'd changed so much. With his black gear and loose short curls, he looked like Anakin Skywalker. He ran his hand through his hair, staring back at the creature. He smiled slightly.

'What?' Clary asked, needing a distraction.

'That thing looks like Jabba the Hutt, well, if he used lighting creams and got a personal trainer.'

'Jabba the stunning,' Clary chimed in.

'Jabba the frickin' ripped, did you see it's stomach? Totes jelly,' he joked with mock frustration. Clary couldn't help but crack a small smile as she started on a portal rune nearby. A huge monster thing slain not too far from them, Jace weak on the ground and Simon's jealousy of said demon's work out routine. Maybe Magnus could bring it back to life and ask where it got such a rocking bod...

It's body. It was still here. Demons were suppose to return to their realms after death...Why was this one still here?

Clary looked up wearily beyond Simon's shoulder.

It was dead.

'Clary?' Simon asked, the humour cast out by that dark look.

'What happened to you? What was all that glowing and floating business?'

'Please, please don't ask me this now' she thought.

'Simon, it's not that import-'

'Not that important? You were levitating, your eyes had rolled back... you were shooting gold out of your hands and mouth,'

'Seriously, fuck this place' Clary thought.

'Simon I don't want to talk about it,' she tried her best to sound stern but it felt flat, she sounded weak in her own ears.

'Clary, is there something I should know? When you started doing what ever that was, I felt my parabatai ruin burn. I felt my blood warm up and something move in my mind, I could barely concentrate.'

Clary whipped to Simon in surprise.

'You did feel something' She thought alarmed.

It was affecting Simon too. It was travelling along their parabatai bond.

'It's getting stronger,' she blurted out loud.

'Clary, what is? What is it?' Simon pushed.

She looked up to him, she wanted to-'Simon. Where's the body?'


End file.
